


Das Versprechen

by kommandanthydra (lokatastrophe)



Category: Captain America, Captain America (Movies), Marvel (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe, Backstory, M/M, Reunions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-27
Updated: 2013-01-27
Packaged: 2017-11-27 01:27:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,129
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/656500
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lokatastrophe/pseuds/kommandanthydra
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A brief excerpt from an alternate universe of Johann's backstory, in which all went according to plan: Bucky fell and was rescued by HYDRA, and Johann was teleported out of the Tesseract. Unfortunately the past did not transpire this way - the Russians captured and brainwashed Bucky, and Johann was absorbed by the Tesseract - but it's nice to imagine what could have been.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Das Versprechen

Schmidt awakened in a cold sweat, grasping with taut and trembling fingers at the edge of the bedsheets pulled up tight around him.  
It was the day after his death.  
He had undergone the fight with Rogers, he had let the Tesseract absorb him when it was the right time, and... what then?   
Dimly he was aware that he had been disintegrated, the cube's power dissolving him into disparate molecules before sucking him up into the void within its depths... but did it let him go, or did it force him to rest there in a agonizing, sleepless unconsciousness for what seemed like an eternity? Was this reality a contortion of his own mind, empowered by the Tesseract's cruel sentience?  
He forced himself to think of other things. The plane had sunk, and Rogers in it. That was good - he was not dead, he could be found if need be. He had promised Bucky not to kill him-- And what of Bucky?  
A sudden pang of dread stabbed through his warped conscience. _Bucky...  
_ He couldn't remember at first what had happened. He only remembered him, his brave little soldier. They had made their plan... he knew that. But what after that?  
Horror filled Schmidt's fractured mind as he considered the possibilities. What if -- what if not HYDRA had found him, but the Nazis, or the Russians, or the Allies, or any of them? What if Bucky was lost?  
For a while he kept his eyes shut, staring sightlessly at closed lids, rather than facing reality. Somehow in his transport through the Tesseract it had seen fit to repair him, and he no longer had need of his mask... and if that, something so drastic, had changed, what else might there be?  
But the inevitable could not be postponed, especially as a beam of early sunlight pierced through the window above him and shined directly on his face, illuminating his eyelids so all he saw was red. One eye opened slowly, then the other, his face contorting into a grimace as his vision adjusted to the sudden brightness.   
Shifting his weight and glancing to the side, he felt a presence in the bed beside him.  
It was Bucky...  
All came back to him in an instant, flooding Johann's mind with the warmth of true joy. His plan had worked. He was safe, out of reach of the Allies. HYDRA was protected. And Bucky was healing, and here with him.  
The soldier slumbered peacefully, face pressed against the pillow. An overnight growth of stubble darkened his jaw, and his mouth was open slightly, a faint smile playing across his sensuous lips. His left arm was bandaged, some bones having been broken from his fall, but it was healing well and quickly. His chest rose and fell with the regular rhythm of soft breathing, and though he had gone to sleep with his fingers intertwined with Johann's, he had his arm wrapped around the pillow now, cuddling it close to him. His clothes had been changed, and he still wore his dog tags, his name and vital details stamped into the small plates of metal that hung around his neck. He never took them off.  
Johann picked up the tags, fingering them lightly. The metal was still warm from having been so close to Bucky's chest. Cautiously, trying not to disturb his dreams, he slipped an arm around his soldier's sleek body and held him close, provoking a soft groan of satisfaction through a haze of sleep.   
One of Johann's fingers made its way up to trace the line of Bucky's jaw, feeling the firm ridge of bone beneath soft skin. He stroked the small cleft in his chin and pressed his fingers against his own lips, then Bucky's, gently transferring a kiss. This stirred the American to wakefulness, his mind recovering from the slumber before his body could catch up.  
At first, he couldn't quite pull himself back to consciousness, half-formed memories floating at the edges of his brain. He recalled falling from the train, that endless plunge that ended with a muffled scream as he blacked out and was buried deep in snow. And then -- more recently -- looking up at people, foreign people, who stared down at him around a table, doing something to fix his arm while speaking in a language his brain was too tired to recognize. He had feared the worst, but it was only a few moments before there was a cry of 'mehr Anästhetikum!" and he was gone again, his mind put back to sleep with the strongest medicine.  
But he was conscious now again, and his eyes opened to reveal a startlingly vivid shade of blue. For an awful moment he did not recognize the man beside him -- who was he? He looked German... but then his name came to him as quickly as instinct and he murmured softly, relieved. "Johann."  
"My Bucky." Schmidt let out a gentle sigh of pure happiness, snuggling closer to the smaller man. He couldn't stop a grin from plastering itself across his normally serious countenance, so he buried his face into Bucky's shoulder to hide this lapse of self-control. "Mein Liebe. I am here. I kept my promise."  
Barnes recalled that promise. They had held hands and whispered to each other, hiding out of reach of the world, like schoolboy lovers. Johann had told him that when he awakened at last, when the plan was done and he was rescued from the fall, he would be there.  
And he was. He _was._..  
Wordlessly Bucky clung to him, trying to calm himself and sort the mixture of conflicting emotions brewing within him. First and foremost there was relief, and love, but also fear, remembering the worst possibilities. But that dissipated quickly, giving way to exultation that made him dig his fingers into Johann's back, determined never to let him go, and murmur "God, Johann, I missed you."  
"I missed you, too." The German trailed soft kisses up Bucky's neck and nipped softly at his ear, pushing him down into the bed before rolling over and pulling Bucky up on top of him. Dark eyes that burned with love gazed up to meet clear, intelligent blue ones, and Bucky placed a finger against Johann's lips, wanting to silence him long enough to just look at him. He had gone so long without seeing him: perhaps it had been several months, but it felt like a decade, and he couldn't bear it anymore. He _loved_ this man, fully and truly, regardless of loyalties or anything else about this damned war. But Schmidt moved Bucky's hand aside with a surprisingly gentle touch, just long enough to utter two long-awaited words that brought an irrepressible grin to his soldier's handsome face.  
"Welcome home."

**Author's Note:**

> There's far less German in this than in most of my stories, but if you don't speak it and can't deduce it:  
> "mehr Anästhetikum" = more anesthetic.  
> "mein Liebe" = my love.
> 
> Also, most of what I'll write for this pairing is not happy fluff like this. It's an inherently tragic backstory.  
> I have an abbreviated version of what happened, here. http://kommandanthydra.tumblr.com/past The part that deals with Bucky is about halfway down.


End file.
